"Perhaps I have done wrong; but I want you to promise beforehand not to
scold me."

"You know very well that I spoil you," said the old man, with a caress;
"I shall not begin to be stern to-day."

"A young man who does not belong to this island, and whose name I do not
know, spoke to me yesterday evening when I was taking the air at my
window."

"And what was he so eager to say to you, my dear Nisida?"

"He begged me to speak to you in his favour."

"I am listening. What can I do for him?"

"Order me to marry him."

"And should you obey willingly?"

"I think so, father," the girl candidly replied. "As to other things,
you yourself must judge in your wisdom; for I wanted to speak to you
before coming to know him, so as not to go on with a conversation that
you might not approve. But there is a hindrance."

"You know that I do not recognise any when it is a question of making my
daughter happy."

"He is poor, father."

"Well, all the more reason for me to like him. There is work here for
everybody, and my table can spare a place for another son. He is young,
he has arms; no doubt he has some calling."

"He is a poet."

"No matter; tell him to come and speak to me, and if he is an honest lad,
I promise you, my child, that I will do anything in the world to promote
your happiness."

Nisida embraced her father effusively, and was beside herself with joy
all day, waiting impatiently for the evening in order to give the young
man such splendid news. Eligi Brancaleone was but moderately flattered,
as you will easily believe, by the fisherman's magnanimous intentions
towards him; but like the finished seducer that he was, he appeared
enchanted at them. Recollecting his character as a fantastical student
and an out-at-elbows poet, he fell upon his knees and shouted a
thanksgiving to the planet Venus; then, addressing the young girl, he
added, in a calmer voice, that he was going to write immediately to his
own father, who in a week's time would come to make his formal proposal;
until then, he begged, as a favour, that he might not present himself to
Solomon nor to any person at all in the island, and assigned as a pretext
a certain degree of shame which he felt on account of his old clothes,
assuring his beloved that his father would bring him a complete outfit
for the wedding-day.

While the ill-starred girl was thus walking in terrifying security at the
edge of the precipice, Trespolo, following his